


Tell Me Where It Hurts

by eyemeohmy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Other, Pre-War, Secret Crush, Unrequited Crush, though only sort of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident in the lab leaves Brainstorm in quarantine. Good thing Quark's there to keep him company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Where It Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Implied Nightbeat/Quark and less unrequited BS/Q, since Quark has no idea Brainstorm digs him. But putting unrequited anyway.
> 
> Also, thanks to the best band, Garbage, for [title inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I242tge6HII).

"...storm?"

 _C'mon_ , Brainstorm internally grunted, optics cracking weakly, _you solved the Corbomite Conundrum, so you can at least open your optics, genius._

It took some effort, but finally, the red blur above him was a ceiling. The obnoxious beeping in his audiols he recognized as a diagnostic and vitals' monitor. He shuttered his optics twice--why _was_ the ceiling red, anyway?

" _Brainstorm_!"

Oh. Right.

Brainstorm opened his optics; the mask on his face retracted. "Quark?" he replied hoarsely. He reset his vocalizer, cleared his throat. He pressed a hand to the side of the berth, pushing himself to a sit--

"Don't! You need-- Well, nevermind."

Brainstorm rubbed the side of his helm. He glanced around the room--he was definitely in a hospital, judging by surroundings and the floating monitor plugged into his head. Though what should have been a wall and door at the front was a glowing, red (ah, that explained the ceiling) barrier.

A quarantine cell, then.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Brainstorm suddenly exclaimed. He gathered to his feet, crossing the room, all the while ignoring Quark's fretting about sitting down you idiot you're not-- Brainstorm pressed his hands to the barrier, looking terrified. "You have no idea--the things they've _done_ to me. Quark, I'm--I'm so scared. The experiments--the _tests_ \--they even probed my--"

"My _Sigma_ that's enough!" Quark snapped.

Brainstorm smiled, all teeth. "RAM's still playing catch up," he said, "mind giving me a recap of the previous episode?"

Quark sighed, bowing his head. "There was an explosion in your lab," he said, adjusting his glasses. "No one knows the cause, but it released an unstable toxin in the air. We managed to evacuate you and three of your colleagues, but..." He looked up, meeting Brainstorm's gaze, and Brainstorm decided he did not like this expression--concern, fear, sadness. "You almost didn't make it, you know. The doctors said your chances were low, and triage was..." He shook his head. "Anyway, they want to keep you in quarantine for another day or two, considering the toxin's instability. Two of the officers who evacuated you and the others came down with alloy hives and minor CPU glitches despite no direct exposure due to containment fields, so there's a chance we may be dealing with an infectious contagion."

Brainstorm frowned. "But everyone survived, right?"

Quark nodded.

Just like that, Brainstorm beamed and leaned closer against the barrier wall. "Holy frag--we discovered a new contagion!?" he squealed excitedly.

Quark rolled his optics, but he figured this would be the response. "We're looking into it; I haven't had access to it yet," he said.

"I could be incubating a new deadly virus in my body as we speak," Brainstorm said, placing a hand to his fuselage. His optics widened. "I may be the host of a future pandemic disease." He turned back to Quark, his optics practically shimmering. " _This is so cool._ "

"Given your vitals, I'd say you'll have to wait for another toxic explosion before you become a carrier," Quark said, pointing to the monitor. "I had a chance to look over your recent system overview. Everything appears to be stable, defense matrix working at full capacity."

"But you can't be too careful, right?" Brainstorm winked. "You always like playing it safe, even though you know I'm perfectly fine."

Quark shrugged. "There's nothing wrong in being cautious," he said.

"What about paranoid?"

"For _once_ you can agree this isn't a matter of paranoia," Quark growled.

Brainstorm raised his hands. "Whoa! You know I'm all about conspiracy theories and government cover-ups and preserved alien remains in the senate's freezer--why so upset?"

Quark huffed. "It's..." He hesitated, glancing down the empty corridor. "It's just been a stressful past few days."

"Tell me about it. Though I've slept through most of it, I had a nightmare where I was being chased by a giant nosoron and he wanted to clear my cache for cookies. But they were _literal_ cookies; like he thought I was made of cook--"

"There's a chance this explosion was no accident."

One of Brainstorm's browplates raised. "Oh?" He smiled. "Deets."

"This is serious, Brainstorm," Quark said, strained, and even through the bright red glow, Brainstorm could see the toll it'd taken on his colleague. His optics seemed to have sunken into their sockets, just a little, from exhaustion, leaving black rings.

"I think it was a terrorist attack. Someone must have rigged the explosion. The only explanation is an inside job." Quark kept his voice hushed, shot another glance at the camera down the hall. "As per protocol, the council is doing an investigation on the matter, but... Lately, I don't..."

Brainstorm tilted his helm. "Well? Spit it out."

Quark shook his head. "No more," he mumbled. "Let's just... wait until you're discharged. We can talk somewhere more... private."

Brainstorm's surprised face turned into a leer. "Well," he smirked, hiking his wings and looking suave, "if that isn't an invitation to some fun shenanigans--"

"I was... really worried about you, Brainstorm."

Brainstorm blinked his wide optics. There it was again--that expression of misery and pain. _Don't_ , he said, biting back the words, _don't make that face. Please don't ever make that face._

"I've survived worse," Brainstorm chuckled instead. "Just another day on the job. Might mean I get a bonus, though."

Quark slowly placed a hand to the barrier field. "Just... promise me you'll keep an optic peeled for a while, okay? Just a head's up for a bit."

Brainstorm stared a moment. His fingers slid up the wall, moving to press against the hand, fingers lined with smaller fingers. "... We're in a hospital, maybe they can surgically attach a third optic to my--"

Quark snapped, "For the love of--! I swear, you are such--!" He massaged his temples, Brainstorm snickering.

"How long were you waiting?"

Quark looked up, fingers stilling. "What do you mean?"

Brainstorm nodded. "How long were you standing here? Waiting for me to wake up?" he asked.

Quark blinked, then looked away, his optics brightening just a smidgen. But Brainstorm immediately noticed. "Not very long," he grumbled.

"Watching me recharge--is that romantic, or creepy?"

"Neither when I'm monitoring your condition."

Brainstorm winked, wagging a finger at the scope. "Oho--good save there, Quark," he said. Sighing, he leaned forward, resting his chin against the barrier. "Hospital food is awful. Once I'm outta here, let's go to some place nice to eat. And expensive. The council can foot the bill. After all-- _sniff_ \--I've been put through..."

"It's part of the job, remember?" Quark sneered. "And the last three times we went out to eat, _I_ ended up paying."

"I told you we could have just ditched while no one was looking."

"Answer's still no."

"... What if I pay?"

"Which you won't--"

"--but what if I did?" Brainstorm suddenly sounded more... insisting. Almost a little demanding. He quickly realized this and recoiled an inch. "I mean, let's saaaay I did?"

Quark pursed his lips. "... In this hypothetical future of an alternate timeline where you pay for meals that doesn't exist--I would say yes."

Brainstorm smirked. "Pack a bag," he said, "we're going wormhole surfing to another dimension."

"You miiiight want to put any vacations planned on hold for a bit."

Brainstorm looked up; a mech was approaching them, one he'd never seen before.

"Nightbeat," Quark said, and Brainstorm's optics widened a little. Scratch that--he knew this mech. He knew... enough. 

Brainstorm's maskplate snapped closed.

"Off duty already?"

Nightbeat stopped beside Quark. "If that's your way of saying 'Nightbeat, you're slacking off,' then no." He smirked, turning his attention to Brainstorm. "Heya. Glad to see you're not a bucket of cosmic rust."

Quark rolled his optics, gestured between the two. "Brainstorm, this is Nightbeat; he's a friend."

"Could you have made that anymore lackluster?" Nightbeat chuckled. "Quark and I've worked together on a few cases before--when I needed his nerdy expertise."

"I've told you at least fifty times _not_ to call me 'nerdy.'"

"Geeky, then."

"Oh, I know you!" Brainstorm suddenly laughed, optics brightening. "Quark's told me a little about you, yes. Say, is it as big and long as Quark says?" He wriggled his browplates.

Nightbeat looked dumbfounded, and Quark incredulously shocked.

"Your list of solved cases and the criminals you've put away," Brainstorm added, "is it really that big and long?"

Nightbeat guffawed. "Well, I don't like to brag," he smirked, visor flashing, "but... you could say he's not exaggerating. Anyway, the size of the list doesn't matter so much as how you get things done, right?"

Quark buried his face in his hands. "The two of you--unbelievable."

"Calm down before you blow out your lens," Nightbeat teased, playfully patting the top of Quark's scope-head.

"Don't!" Quark snarled, slapping his hand away. "Do you know how hard it is to keep my lenses clean!?"

"You've only whined about it two dozen times."

Brainstorm watched them silently.

Quark cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, "Nightbeat is doing me a favor."

"Purely off the books."

"He's doing his own investigation on the accident," Quark murmured, optics flicking to the camera.

"Trust nothing and no one," Nightbeat chortled. "Isn't that right, Quark?"

"He's got a loud mouth and an ego the size of Luna 1," Quark said, face stoic, "but he's a good P.I. I trust him to come up with an honest answer. Hopefully one that will match the council's."

"I wish I could join the Mystery Super Secret Club," Brainstorm moaned, "but instead I'm stuck here, eating horrible hospital rations left over from the nearest prison facility."

Nightbeat shrugged. "It's not an easy job, anyway; I take a lot of risks. Put my spark on the line often. ... Nevermind, you probably get it, all things considered."

"Sounds like we got some stories to swap," Brainstorm said.

"I'm all about learning new things, even the boring science stuff Quark rambles about. Because, as you know, knowledge is power, and the more you know--"

"Please stop," Quark interjected.

Nightbeat sighed. "Can't win 'em all, can you?"

Brainstorm smirked. "No... You can't."

"I'm not here for introductions--no offense, because it's been fun so far--but just to give you an update on the case," Nightbeat explained. "I've got a possible lead--can't tell you much until I'm sure I'm not following breadrock crumbs."

Quark pinched his nose ridge. "But at least you have something."

"'Fraid that's all I've got for now," Nightbeat said. "But I'll keep looking." He turned and nodded at Brainstorm, smiling warmly. "Nice finally meeting you in the armor, Brainstorm. Best of luck and a quick recovery." He started off, Brainstorm watching him closely-- "Oh! Wait!" Nightbeat stopped, turned around, and pointed at Quark. "Twelve pack. Not six pack."

"I got it!" Quark scowled.

Nightbeat left with a skip in his step.

Brainstorm glanced back at Quark. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"I'm suppose to be meeting him for drinks tonight, at his place," Quark explained, his optics glowing with embarrassment, "I lost a bet, and, well--I need to pick up a twelve pack of Abraxan Blue after I leave."

Brainstorm nodded. "Mm."

"'Mm'?"

"He seems like a nice and pleasant person," Brainstorm smirked, "but..." He squinted. "When he said 'nice to _finally_ meet you'--Do you talk about me with him, Quark?"

"Not really."

"If I'm involved, I wanna know," Brainstorm insisted, "and they better all be good things. Like my demi-god status."

Quark grunted. "He knows we're friends, we've been working together for years, and sometimes you make me want to rip out synthetic hair I do not have. But-- I have told him you are an insufferable, possibly mad, very eccentric but brilliant scientist; a genius of our time we are... usually fortunate and lucky to have."

Brainstorm's maskplate opened again, showing his smile. "Aww, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," he said. "Restating the facts, though."

A nurse emerged from the elevator. "Visiting hours are closing in five minutes, sir," he said, before disappearing again.

Quark sighed. "Listen-- Just get some rest, okay? Don't go doing upside down crunchies on the ceiling."

"Hanging upside down from the ceiling helps me think, though."

Quark shook his head. "I'll be back tomorrow," he said, placing a hand on the barrier; Brainstorm pressed one back, "hopefully to check you out."

As Quark's hand drew away, Brainstorm's twitched, lingered. His fingers slowly curled into a half-fist. "Have fun tonight," he said, "don't drink too much. You'll purge all over Nightbeat and that's not a very nice thing to do."

Quark just huffed and got onto the elevator. "I'll save you a bottle," he said, the doors closing.

Brainstorm stared at the elevator; the buzzing from the barrier wall was loud in this empty ward. He stepped back, mask sliding into place. He sat down on the edge of the berth, and for a while, thought about the way things were.


End file.
